26.5.17

In this world, in that world, and in all the rest.



This is for you, the boy with the plaid shirt.

The one with the hesitant awkward grin. The one with the bug-eyed expression.

The boy who hides behind a veil of silence and hesitation. 

You don’t have a lot to say most of the times, often opting to listen. Sliding quirky remarks and subtle jokes in conversations, you have a sense of humour that never fails to amuse me. Scarcely fond to other homo-sapiens, your care for animals (scales and all) shakes me out of reality and straight into fantasy-land. Seeing you so fond and the outright light shining in your eyes, the amount of love right there, oh boy, how blessed I am to have you. 

Let me measure how I love thee. 

From the tip of your cropped hair to your unshaven beard, from the peak of your amused eyebrows to the tip of your tapping fingers, from the upturned collar to the holes of your socks.

Let me count the ways I love you.

As a friend I can rest with, complete with eager eyes and witty rapports,
As a person I can rely on, with non-wavering hands and quiet support,
As a lover that I see myself with, unconventional and silently strong.

Oh how I am in love with you. 

You’re the one that I want, you see. Some people may scoff at me, murmur that I’m being naïve, that no such thing can be said with such certainty. 

But I feel it, in my bones. 

With every laughter, smile and even fights, I feel it in my gut, my bones, heck, even my toes. You’re the one that I ruddy want to be with. And if hell breaks loose, and tear us apart, just know that in all the parallel universes, I’m sure one of my alternate selves is with your alternate self. 

So, really, with that train of thought I’ll always be with you.

Mine

  It’s like a hitch, when your breath gets caught in between the spaces of your ribs, as it swings up and down. Air trapped between the whit...